Walk Between the Raindrops
by Nina3
Summary: Fairly typical "two strangers meet in a bar" scenario but with an atypical crossover.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: None of the characters or core concepts are mine… They all belong to Joss Whedon, Aaron Sorkin, Mutant Enemy, Century Fox, UPN, WB, et al. I'm just borrowing them. The lyrics are from "Earth Dies Screaming" as performed by Tom Waits. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made.

Summary: Your standard "Two strangers meet in a bar" scenario.

Dedication: Thiswas written for Kyria, who adores Dan.

He sat down at the end of the bar and ordered another drink from the perturbed bartender as his selection began to play over the jukebox.

_Rudy's on the midway  
And Jacob's in the hole  
The monkey's on the ladder  
The devil shovels coal  
With crows as big as airplanes  
The lion has three heads_

He took his first sip of the cool blue liquid the barkeep sat before him as the gravelly tenor poured forth from speakers. While Tom Waits ground out the lyrics of his favorite song, the blonde sitting beside him stirred her margarita halfheartedly, squinting at the sound system in consternation as she focused on the music.

_And someone will eat the skin that he sheds  
And the earth died screaming  
The earth died screaming  
While I lay dreaming of you_

With an indelicate snort, she finished her drink before looking over at him and leaning in, as if to impart a great secret, "Some people? Have no taste in music. I mean, are you hearing this?" At the last, she jabbed her thumb in the air, indicating the jukebox in corner.

Umbrage warred with surprise. The last thing he'd expected to find in a dingy little bar in Rome was an American woman disparaging his tastes. He'd gotten plenty of that in New York, after all. In fact, that was precisely why he wasn't in New York any more. He'd left his life, or the shambles of it that remained, behind when things with Rebecca had gone sour again.

Shaking his head, he defended his choice weakly, "This is a classic!"

_Well hell doesn't want you  
And heaven is full_

He saw her wince and wondered briefly about it before shrugging off his curiosity and returning his attentions to the monstrosity of a drink that sat before him.

_Bring me some water  
Put it in this skull  
I walk between the raindrops  
Wait in Bug House Square_

"You picked this!" Her accusing voice and the accompanying poke to the ribs surprised him so much he bobbled his drink, nearly dropping it. Her hands covered his for a moment as they both hurried to steady his cocktail. Laughing green eyes looked into his and he was compelled to smile back.

"Thanks, I felt like Bill Buckner for a second there," he offered sheepishly, pushing back his glass and really studying the woman before him for a moment. Her green eyes were tinged with just enough brown that he wondered if they changed color and sat in a face framed by honey blonde hair, streaked with lighter highlights, which swept just past her shoulders in a loosely layered cut.

He saw a faint blush creep over her pale skin as his brown eyes swept over her form in a swift, frank appraisal.

_And the army ants  
They leave nothing' but the bones  
And the earth died screaming  
While I lay dreaming of you_

"You're welcome. I was worried if you'd spilled that," she paused, as though searching for an elusive term, "bucket, we'd both have drowned. And drowning? Is overrated."

Grinning, he glanced at the drink he'd been nursing since he sat down, "It does seem like a lot to drink, doesn't it?"

"Not if you love Avalanches," she replied, gazing at the item in question before meeting his look again, "which you apparently do."

Laughing outright now, he confessed, "Actually, I'm more a fan of the color." At her confused look, he leaned in as he expounded, "There's this bar back home where you'd get a discount on giant blue margaritas if you wore something blue. The drinks were terrible, but I kept going back. I've been on a quest for a combination of blue and tasty ever since."

_There was thunder  
There was lightning  
Then the stars went out  
And the moon fell from the sky_

"Is that what brought you to Rome? This quest for blue and tasty?" she asked teasingly.

"No. I just needed to get away. Get a fresh start."

_It rained mackerel  
It rained trout  
And the great day of wrath has come  
And here's mud in your big red eye_

"Yeah. I know how that goes." She sipped her drink thoughtfully before nudging him, "So, you did, didn't you? "

"What did I do?"

"You picked this song!"

"Hey! You make it sound like a bad thing…"

_The poker's in the fire  
And the locusts take the sky  
And the earth died screaming  
While I lay dreaming of you_

"Were you even paying attention to the words?" she joked. "So melodramatic. And, really… as if the world would actually end with locusts." Emphasizing the apparent absurdity of the idea with an expressive roll of her eyes, she added derisively, "Puh-leeze."

Nodding, he intoned seriously, "Ah, an expert on the apocalypse, I see."

"Well, I dabble," she replied with a nonchalant shrug.

Amused and intrigued, he extended a hand, "Hi, I'm Dan, by the way."

Taking his hand and giving it a firm shake, she grinned. "Nice to meet you, Dan of the horrible musical tastes. I'm Buffy."


	2. Wish You Were Here

Wish You Were Here

Dedication: _This was written for Kyria, who still adores Dan and continues to encourage my errant muse._

Disclaimer: _None of the characters or core concepts are mine… They all belong to Joss Whedon, Aaron Sorkin, Mutant Enemy, Century Fox, UPN, WB, et al. I'm just borrowing them. Chapter title is taken from lyrics to Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here" which played as I wrote this installment. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made._

"Ouch!"

"Oh God, did I hurt your hand?" Genuinely concerned, the woman beside him grabbed his hand and gingerly inspected it for damage while he bit back a grin.

"Not my hand," he reassured as he pulled it out of her grasp, "though that is quite a grip you've got there, Buffy. My pride is what's battered."

"Your pride?" she parroted skeptically, arching an eyebrow as she took another sip of her drink.

"Yes. My pride. A man's gotta have his pride."

"I've known you less than an hour and already I've wounded your pride?"

"You do work fast, I'll give you that."

"You're just a delicate flower, aren't ya, Dan?"

He snorted at that before downing some more of his Avalanche, "Delicate? Hardly. I'm what you'd call a man's man." Puffing out his chest in an exaggerated fashion, he winked at her, blue eyes sparkling with good humor.

God/dess had she missed a man with a sense of humor.

"Really? Not what I'd have gone with," she shrugged mildly as she glanced around the crowded room. "Now my fey associate over there, the blonde," she pointed to a lanky man in his mid twenties wearing a shirt with "Greedo Shot First" emblazoned across the front, "He's what I'd call a man's man. But you do have a pretty mouth."

Swiveling his head from one blonde to the other, he arched an eyebrow at Buffy, shooting her a withering glance that died as soon as she aimed a brilliant, sheepish smile his way.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, leaning into him as the doleful strains of Syd Barrett wafted through the air. "I'm gonna have to blame that on too much Faith, I think. I'm not usually so…"

"Insulting?" he ventured as she trailed off, searching again for just the right phrase.

Blushing slightly, she shook her head. "I was going to say 'forward' actually."

"Forward?" Dan repeated incredulously, suddenly very glad he'd set his drink back down. "So… Wait! That was you trying to hit on me?"

"My technique needs a little work, huh?"

"Well…" Pretending to consider, he studied her again noting the faint flush that still tinged her cheeks prettily and the rhythmic tapping of her ring finger against the side of her glass. "The next time you probably want to hold off on insulting the guy's taste in music until you've known him at least an hour."

Laughing at herself good-naturedly, she nodded, "Fair enough."

"And," he added somberly, "It's probably best to never, ever compare a guy to your misguided friend over there."

"Because he's gay?" Buffy's hackles rose a little, ready to defend Andrew.

"No," Dan stated emphatically, "because he's a moron. Everyone knows Han shot first."

Rolling her eyes as she relaxed again, Buffy chuckled lightly. "So, is there a time limit on how long before a girl can call a guy a dork? Because… Wow. Dork."

"Well, actually…" locking eyes with her again, Dan felt a blush creep into his own face without knowing exactly why. "Um, I think there may be a sliding scale for that one."

"I'll have to remember that."


End file.
